


The Battle Is Won

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Play Along [24]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/M, M/M, band au, musician au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 14:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: "Author's choice, author's choice, And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow."</p><p>John finds peace amidst the chaos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Battle Is Won

Rodney sat in the soundbooth with the Snakeskinners’ sound engineer Siler (no one knew his first name) and the venue’s sound engineer. Jennifer had been released from the hospital into her mother’s care (her furious mother who’d refused to look at any of them except Evan, and only then to try to make him cry with the force of her gaze alone). And they were back on the road. Stripped-down, acoustic, just the three of them, Teyla playing a cajon, Ronon on rhythm guitar, John on lead guitar.  
  
When Teyla had handed Rodney the set list before soundcheck earlier that afternoon, he’d been mildly horrified at some of the songs that they’d resurrected from the Space Monkeys catalogue, but Teyla pointed out they knew the songs well, they worked with an acoustic set, and they wanted to do something different now that _things_ were different.  
  
Different was a painful understatement. Jennifer was gone. Rodney couldn’t look at John. John spent most of his time hiding in his bunk, doing sudoku puzzles, or hanging out with Cam Mitchell and playing his guitar. Ronon spent a lot of time on the Snakeskinners bus with Amelia. And Teyla was, as always, on the phone with various kids and cousins back home.  
  
The fans were quieter, more subdued with the news of Jennifer’s illness. There had been signs in the crowd in support of Jennifer, in condemnation of media treatment of women, and those had made Rodney feel marginally better, but they wouldn’t help Jennifer where she was, and Rodney knew her - she was probably pretending the Space Monkeys didn’t even exist.  
  
When Amelia, Vala, Hailey, and Grace ambled onto the stage and arrayed themselves around Teyla and her microphone, the fans screamed.  
  
“This next song is a cover,” Teyla said, “and it’s for Jennifer.”  
  
The song they’d chosen was perfect, and it broke Rodney’s heart. He wondered, as the girls wove their harmonies over John and Ronon’s artful guitar work, if he’d ever made Jennifer feel unpretty, if he’d ever said anything that made her feel inadequate or less than perfect. And he remembered how Evan would always smile at her, tell her how lovely she looked, tell her when she’d done well on stage.  
  
The girls from the Snakeskinners departed, and John rolled his shoulders, cast Ronon a grin - a genuine grin, not the superstar million-megawatt grin the girls loved that Rodney now knew masked exhaustion and pain.  
  
“This next song,” John said, “is from our high school days. Rodney did a lot of experimenting with his songwriting, and a lot of his songs were...reactionary. We were reading medieval lit in English class, and Rodney really, really hated it, and what came out of it was - this.”  
  
Siler raised an eyebrow at Rodney.  
  
Rodney kept his hands on the soundboard, checking dials, but knew he was blushing.  
  
At first the crowd wasn’t sure what to make of the aggressive guitar chords, the heavy beat, but then John hit the chorus, _My name is Tristan, and I am alive_ , and there was something in his eyes, in his smile that Rodney couldn’t put his finger on, and the crowd went wild.  
  
Given how Rodney had written the song when he was sixteen in a fit of rage over being forced to crawl his way through Le Morte D’Arthur, he was pretty gratified with the crowd response.

After the set - and a few more embarrassing songs from Rodney’s adolescence - he hurried across the catwalks to meet them backstage, to see if Teyla and Ronon wanted to go into the pit tonight. Ronon wanted to. Teyla declined. John was singing with the Snakeskinners tonight, so of course he wasn’t going to go into the pit.  
  
Rodney hadn’t caught Cam and John kissing since the incident at the hospital.  
  
“Let’s go,” Rodney said, tugging on Ronon’s arm.  
  
Ronon nodded, and they started for the stage door, but John called out, “Wait.”  
  
Rodney bit the inside of his cheek to keep his expression neutral. John trotted toward him, towing Teyla. He met Rodney’s gaze evenly, and Rodney saw calm in his eyes. Peace.  
  
“I just want you to know,” John said, “I didn’t pick Tristan for tonight’s set list to make fun of you. Tonight was about Jennifer, and I didn’t want to spoil that for the crowd, but just for us, it’s official. Got the news from the doctors today. My cancer is officially in remission. _My name is Tristan, and I am alive._ ”  
  
Teyla’s eyes shone. Ronon tugged John into a fierce hug. Rodney smiled weakly, said, “Congratulations.”  
  
“Thanks.” John sounded perfectly sincere, serene. And then someone called his name, and he turned, and Cam was waiting for him, and Rodney watched him walk away.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from All These Things That I've Done by The Killers.
> 
> Song credits:  
> Unpretty by TLC  
> Tristan - Patrick Wolf


End file.
